Deconstruction and the Protestant Dilemma

In recent years, deconstruction has become a buzzword—especially among former evangelicals. Countless people have begun to question the faith they grew up with, examining it piece by piece, often dismantling long-held beliefs. Some end up finding a reimagined version of Christianity that aligns better with their personal views. Others leave the faith entirely.

The reasons are as varied as the people themselves: church hurt, moral failures of leadership, disbelief in key doctrines, or simply finding the whole system outdated or disconnected from real life. It’s not hard to understand why someone might feel disillusioned.

Many evangelical pastors and leaders have responded with alarm. To them, deconstruction is a threat—a coordinated attempt to undermine the truth and lead people away from the gospel. And in one sense, they’re right. Deconstruction does challenge the foundations they’ve worked hard to build.

But here’s the uncomfortable irony: the entire evangelical movement is built on deconstruction.

At its core, Protestantism is a protest. That’s not a criticism—it’s simply what the name means. The Protestant Reformation wasn’t a gentle revision. It was a forceful break, a tearing down of what reformers believed had gone wrong with the Church. It was a bold statement: We no longer trust the tradition we came from. We’re going to rebuild from scratch.

And they did.

But it didn’t stop there. The Protestant movement has continued to fracture for the last 500 years. New denominations form in protest of older ones, claiming to have rediscovered the “pure” gospel or the “true” church. Today, there are over 30,000 Protestant denominations—each one a splinter group, often founded on disagreements over doctrine, worship style, or church governance.

In our modern world, finding a church can feel like walking into a theological Baskin-Robbins. Do you believe in the gifts of the Holy Spirit? Great—there’s a Pentecostal church for that. Do you believe the gifts have ceased? No problem—plenty of cessationist churches exist too. Don’t believe in the Trinity? Believe in universal salvation? Reject traditional authority altogether? There’s probably a community somewhere that aligns with those views as well.

But is that what Jesus had in mind when He established the Church? A marketplace of customized belief systems tailored to personal preferences?

That question haunted me. And it eventually sent me on a journey—not of deconstruction for its own sake, but of deeper seeking. I didn’t want a faith I had tailored to fit me. I wanted to find the faith that Jesus had passed on to the apostles. A faith that had been preserved and proclaimed faithfully through the centuries. One that was not fragmented and reinvented every few generations, but consistent in its core teachings and rooted in history.

That search led me to the Catholic Church.

And I know what you might be thinking: Of course you’re saying that. You’re Catholic now.

But don’t just take my word for it.

Put in the work. Read the early Church Fathers. Study Church history from the first century onward. Ask hard questions about continuity, doctrine, authority, and unity. And most of all—ask whether the Church of today still resembles the one founded by Christ.

That’s what I did.

And if you’re honest in your search, you may just find what I found: that the Catholic Church hasn’t changed its teachings to fit the times—it has faithfully taught the same truths for over 2,000 years.

You don’t have to “deconstruct” your faith to nothing. You can trace it back to its roots.

And maybe, like me, you’ll discover that what seemed like the end of your faith journey was actually the beginning of coming home.